


Did you fall from heaven though?

by ihatesupermanshair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, oblivious oliver, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25527847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihatesupermanshair/pseuds/ihatesupermanshair
Summary: “Now, Oliver, would you say that Flint is your type?” Asked Fred.“Or are you not into the whole troll vibe he’s got going on?” Added George.Prompt:Marcus: I like dropping hints that I like WoodMarcus: *knocks Oliver off of his broom with a bludger*(from katiekate-hawkeye on tumblr)
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	1. don’t call your crush a slur

**Author's Note:**

> There’s probably going to be more chapters but hhhhh this already took a lot of time to write cause I’m an impatient fucker
> 
> Anyways hope you enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus has a big ol crush. Also he's so bad at expressing it

After two years of pining after Oliver Wood, Marcus had decided to try a different strategy. He’d instead begun dropping subtle hints that he fancied the other lad. But unfortunately Wood was as oblivious as a door. Well to be fair, his hints mostly consisted of sneering, nasty comment and bland violence on the quidditch field.

After a particularly brutal fall from 30 feet caused by a laughing Marcus, Oliver seemed to have had enough.

“What is wrong with you, Flint?!”

Marcus realised that his plan might not be as flawless as he once thought. The slytherin team snickered behind him. He smiled innocently. 

“Nothing in particular when I looked in the mirror this morning,” he added a wink which he then instantly regretted

Wood scowled as he marched up to the slytherin. He was nearly a foot taller than Marcus. He’d be perfect as a cuddle buddy. Not that Marcus liked cuddling. It’d just be nice curling up in a ball and have Oliver’s strong arms- honestly he didn’t like cuddling. Wood probably loved to cuddle. That twat. He was probably also good at it. Marcus snapped back to reality when Oliver kneed him in the stomach. 

“Bloody fucking Mary, you bitch!” 

Oliver huffed. Marcus bent over holding his side. He closed his eyes for a minute. When he thought getting bent over by Oliver, this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He fought hard against the blush that slowly crept up on his face. His teammates sneered gleefully. The pain surpassed and he send Wood the death glare. 

“That bloody hurt!”

“Yeah? I FELL FROM 30 FUCKING FEET, FLINT!” 

Oliver’s eyes where widened from rage and he was panting like crazy. Even when he was mad he was hot. 

“Didn’t know heaven was only 30 feet up in the air.”

Fuck. 

That really shut Oliver up. He opened his mouth again but nothing came out. The twins - Marcus couldn’t remember their names - landed on the ground. Oliver still stood dumbfounded when they reached him. 

“What did you do to Wood?” 

Marcus stood extremely still. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. He needed to get out of there before Oliver came to his senses. He spun around tugging Montague who was smirking knowingly with him. He was definitely going to run extra laps.

—

Flints words were stuck in Oliver’s head like glue. What did it mean? Well of course he knew exactly what Flint had meant (even if he didn’t the Weasley twins made sure to explain it to him with explicit detail in the locker rooms). It was just weird that Marcu- Flint had said it. But- yea it was definitely just a joke. A bit weird but definitely just a joke. 

Right?

Flint had looked petrified afterwards. Scared of what people might think of him now. As if he had just admitted to have a deep committed relationship to a cow. Or a cactus. Or something of that sort.

But instead he had implied Oliver was an angel. 

That was weird. It was pretty weird. They hated each other. And even if it just was a joke, it hadn’t seemed like it. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Angelina Johnson. She looked smug. Oliver instantly knew what she was gonna say.

“Seems like Flint has a little crush,” Angelina smiled and glanced at the Slytherin table.

“Oh, shut up, he has not.”

“He totally does!”

At the sound of the beginning to an argument Fred and George immediately caught interest in their conversation.

“What are we talking about dear friends?”

“Piss off,” Oliver said as he angrily impaled a sweet potato. Angelina smirked. 

“Oh, we’re just talking about Flints secret crush,” she winked at the twins. They nodded with sinister smiles on their lips and moved closer.

“Now, Oliver, would you say that Flint is your type?” Asked Fred.

“Or are you not into the whole troll vibe he’s got going on?” Added George.

Oliver glared at them. They laughed. 

“Taking that as a no.”

“What a shame,” Fred looked truly disappointed, “our dear Marcus has been pining for years.”

“I mean, Oliver, sweety, at least let him down so he can move on,” George said.

“Or get in his knickers,” Fred winked. The twins snickered. 

At that comment Oliver hurried away from the table, annoyed and strangely aroused at the thought of Marcus in his underwear. He didn’t really wanna think about it.

He did though a minute later when he bumped into Flint himself.

— 

Flint had been mortified by the words that had slipped out of his mouth at the quidditch field earlier that day. It had stressed him out thinking about what Oliver might think of him, or not think. Did he know? Did he just think Marcus was joking? Either it did not help relieve the stress when he stumbled into Wood. He was just gonna play it cool.

Marcus did not.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going faggot!” 

Shit, this was even worse than calling Oliver an angel. Oh fuck, he did not mean that.

Wood stared at him, completely lost for words. He didn’t need them though because his icy cold stare spoke loud enough. Marcus swallowed. This was bad. A shameful red covered his face. Oliver crept closer until he had Marcus backed up against a wall. It was just like in his wank fantasies. Except he didn’t call Wood the f slur and Oliver would be smiling. This was humiliating and sad. Marcus should’ve just shut up and kept walking. Oliver was so close that he could feel his slow breath. 

“You shouldn’t call people that,” Wood informed him. 

Yea, no shit Sherlock. It had been the heat of the moment. Marcus swallowed again. His mouth seemed to be more wet than normal. He looked away, a blush creeping up on his face. Hopefully Wood wouldn’t notice it. 

“Get the hell away from me,” Flint spat. 

“Not until you apologise.”

“Shut up.”

They stayed in that position for a long time. Marcus didn’t exactly know how long as time had seem to stop. It was actually fine until Marcus noticed the rather large bulge in his pants. 

“Fine,” he almost whined, “I’m sorry! Now can you fuck off?!” 

Wood smiled sweetly.

“Sure, trollface.” 

Marcus had daggers for eyes. He fleed quickly as soon as Oliver moved away. Stupid handsome Wood. He was gonna be the end of him.


	2. get a hold of your anger issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus yells a lot in this one. And oh- oh would you look at that? Looks like angst? Oh yea, it's angst. Angst is here now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy i finally fucking updated! hurray!  
> haha

Yea, Marcus was hopelessly in love with Wood but he was still angry. He was pissed actually. So he did the most logical thing and took his anger out on his quidditch team. Because he really couldn’t keep breaking all of his pens. He yelled at both Montague, Malfoy and Warrington. Not that he didn’t do this every time they practiced but that was more of a sort of encouraging yelling. Like when kids do something really dumb but you know they can do better so you yell at them, yea? Marcus didn’t really have any kids so he didn’t know if that would ever be a situation. This was a bad metaphor. Plus he didn’t have time to think about imaginary kids. He needed to stay focused on yelling. 

“OI, PUCEY! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

Pucey stopped cold in his tracks, dumbfounded. He looked nervous.

“What issit Flint?”

The others knew Flint was in a bad mood and backed slowly away from Marcus’ victim.

“YOU CAN’T JUS KEEP FUCKIN’ FLYING WHEN THERE’S A BLOODY BLUDGER CHASING YOU!”

Pucey swallowed. He looked around for support. The others were busy gossiping a few meters away from them. He had no one to back him up. Flint sneered. 

“You got nothing to say to me, Pucey?!”

“Uh, Flint- uh there wasn’t a bludger after me.” 

“What?!” 

Somehow Montague had seemed to have heard what Pucey had said and was slowly moving over to them. He had a weird look on his face. 

“Yea we haven’t played with bludgers yet Marcus.” 

Flint knotted his eyebrows. He was sure that he saw a bludger. To be fair he had mostly been thinking of Oliver. Actually the whole time. How mad he was at him and his perfect chin and his nice hair that probably smells really good. Most likely of cinnamon and common room fire. Oliver wouldn’t have seen a bludger when there wasn’t one. He was an amazing captain. Much better than Flint. 

“Flint? Hello?”

Marcus looked up. He licked his lips slowly. 

“What?”

Montague and Pucey looked worried. They looked at each other and then back at Marcus. 

“How much sleep have you gotten lately?”

“Plenty,” Flint send them an annoyed glare. Yea lately all of his dreams had involved Oliver in some way and he always woke up from them either glistening with sweat or sizzling with anger, and then he would usually sneak out and walk around the castle for most of the night kind of hoping but also dreading he would run into Wood himself. But he had gotten plenty of sleep. Yea yea, plenty of sleep. He fought against a yawn. 

“We can see you fighting down a yawn Flint.”

Marcus didn’t say anything. Maybe he could turn invisible. But it was a fat chance even if he had figured out the spell.

“You make like a weird ‘M’ with your mouth every time you do that.”

Pucey smiled sweetly at him. The others had kind of gathered around them. Flint really wanted to yell at them all. He didn’t need sleep. So what if he saw a bludger that didn’t really exist and had forgotten they hadn’t even begun practicing with them. That was none of their business. He was the captain. 

“Shut up, Pucey-“

Montague starting opening his mouth probably to protest or come with a logical argument as to why Flint should sleep. Logic was dumb anyway. 

“You too Montague! I don’t wanna hear it. Can’t believe you almost got me to finish training early,” Marcus looked around at the rest of his teammates, who were awkwardly hanging in the air waiting for the yelling to pass. 

“OI, WHAT’RE YA LOOKING AT?! START FLYING!”

-

Marcus was still damp when he left the dressing room. It was a foggy evening. The kind of foggy evening you would expect form a school with witchcraft and wizardry. Unfortunately the fog meant he would manage to get his feet completely soaked before he reached the doors to the Great Hall. Marcus’ lips curled up in an annoyed look that Warrington said made him look even more like a troll. He hoped he hadn’t made that face in front of Oliver.

It wasn’t late enough for all the food to be cleared. He liked coming later when there weren’t a lot of people. They stressed him out. Were they laughing at him or just a funny joke? It was probably always the ladder but he still felt weird about it. Plus Oliver was in the same room, and Marcus just knew he looked disgusting while he was eating. Well most likely. He had never seen himself eat but it would definitely look gross. So he had purposely taken a longer time to shower and get into his ropes and now he would get the hall all for himself. 

As Marcus walked into the great hall, confident he would be alone, fate gave him the ultimate fuck finger. The fuck finger came in the form of the whole Gryffindor quidditch team sitting at their table. Still eating. Oliver was pointing aggresively at something on a paper. They all laughed as he explained something that sounded important. In the meantime his quidditch team had already left. He considered just leaving without eating anything. Right as he had chosen to just go down to the common room (he’d just yell at one of his teammates until they gave him some food) he heard the familiar sound of Potters voice yelling something. He turned around sneering. 

Harry Potter himself was turned towards him with an ugly sour expression on his face. He did not look good mad. 

“FLINT! DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID?!”  
Flint rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to hear a 13 year old scream at him so he moved closer to the angry looking gryffindors. They all had a weird resemblance of labrador dogs. Wood was sitting the furthest away. He looked annoyed. But it seemed like it wasn’t directed at Marcus. 

“What do you want Potter?”

The black haired boy opened his mouth to say something but the girl besides him interrupted. 

“Did you really call Oliver the f slur?”

Marcus instantly froze. He stood there in an uncomfortable long silence. 

“Yea, so what?” He took a more confident stance. Crossed his arms across his chest and lifted his chin to stare directly into the girl's eyes, “apologized didn’t I?”

Another girl besides her coughed. She looked less fierce. 

“Yea, well Flint, it was pretty homophobic.”

Marcus felt conored. He had apologized. What else could he fucking do? But he wasn’t about to act weak in front of some gooey gryffindors. He could say whatever the fuck he wanted. 

“Is Oliver gay?”

The whole teamed looked weird at him and the turned towards Oliver who seemed surprised at all of the sudden attention. Like he hadn’t paid attention at all. They looked at Marcus again. At the same time and all. It was a bit creepy. 

“No but-“

Flint interrupted, “then it wasn’t homophobic so shut the fuck up, yea?”

The twins, clearly enraged, redened at that statement. It was as if their whole face was a giant flame. The left one opened his mouth, “no! She won’t shut the fuck up Flint. You can’t say that word!”

Back to his earlier point, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He had gone through enough and he wouldn’t let some hetereos, who by the way knew absolutely nothing about this sorta thing, control him

“You don’t tell me what I can and cannot say, Weasley.”

“You can’t say slurs you can’t reclaim!” 

Something inside of him broke and spilled. Something important that he had been holding back. He was shaking with anger. 

“Oh I’m so sorry I’m gay and I’m calling people A SLUR THAT’S BEEN USED AGAINST ME MY ENTIRE LIFE! I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, YOU LITTLE CUNT, BUT THAT SEEMS LIKE ENOUGH REASON FOR ME TO BE ABLE TO RECLAIM THE WORD FAGGOT!”

This time they did shut up. Everybody was looking at him. It took a minute for him to realize what he just had confessed in front of his literal enemies. And Oliver Wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so just to clear things up lmao  
> I know you shouldn't call people a slur even if you can reclaim it, especially if people don't know you can do it. I just wanted some trauma to come up and create some angst yknow. I'm evil like that.  
> Anyways hoped you enjoyed lol


End file.
